Damien Thorne Year 1
by Chaotic38
Summary: Meet Damien Thorne, a pureblood who raised himself on the streets. Follow his story has he makes friends, finds an enemy he never knew he had... his own brother. Relationships will be forged, friendships tested, and death awaits at every corner. Can Damien and his friends survive? A Warning. There may be long periods of time before I post a chapter as this is an original story.
1. Chapter 1

Darkness surrounded me almost my entire life. It fed off of my fear, instigated my hatred, but the worst of all ... Darkness is a part of me I could never remove. It aids me in some ways, but hinders me in most. I'm not saying that it's an ability or something I could rely on. I'm not gifted enough to have such an ability. Quite the opposite. The earliest memory I had of darkness came in an odd way.

The darkness enveloped me, shrouded me. My eyes tried to adjust ever since I woke up here, but still all I could see was the pitch black that consumed me. That fact was the one thing that scared me. I've lived my entire life alon, which helped me outgrow any fears I might have had. But the fact that this Darkness was unnatural scared me.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. My name is Damien Brangwen Thorne, and I assure you that I've heard the jokes before. Which just so happens to be why I rarely tell my middle name to anyone. Perhaps it was a cruel joke on my parents' part. Or maybe, it was an apt name. My mother was a seer, or rather she could see the future, though I say that in the lightest of terms. She was very limited in I, he, she, we, they."what her seer abilities could do, but perhaps she saw some destiny that awaited me. You see, my mom believed that the meaning of a name mattered more than whether or not the name /Sounded/ good. Damien means 'to tame', Brangwen means 'Dark' or 'Darkness', while Thorne means exactly that 'thorn'. So my name, in a sentence, means 'to tame the thorns of Darkness.'

But I digress. I was surrounded in a world of darkness, with nothing but the clothes on my back. I don't know how long I stood there, for it seemed like an eternity, before something happened. A pinprick of light appeared through the darkness. "Now, you're not better than him" A faint, soft voice cut through the silence, a tinge of sadness hanging on to the words. Following the voice, the light began to swell, doubling, tripling in size, until there was a large, gaping wall of blinding light in front of me. A rougher voice called out through the light. It was louder than the other voice, so I could only assume that it was closer. "Wait, I'm sorry," Sorry? Sorry for what? What was going on, and why could I hear the voices anyway? "And thanks ... for bringing me back." The light began to stretch out reaching for the farthest points within the darkness until all there was left, was blinding light.

For ages I stood there, expecting to hear the voices again, but none came. I was bewildered, but with the light surrounding me, I was no longer afraid. It was as if the light was seeping through my pores, calming my nerves. Within the light, I waited, until something entirely unexpected happened.

The room began shifting, warping. The void that was light began to take shape, until it was a rectangular box made of light. Strange shapes began to appear in the box in familiar patterns. For nearly a minute the box retained these shapes, until color drenched the room. The walls of light slowly bled into a light aquamarine. The strange shapes began to form into materials. Wood, leather, cloth, all of these formed and twisted until they became a combination of furniture.

Over all, the room was particularly bland for my tastes. A love seat was angled in the corner of the south and eastern walls. A bookshelf with two chairs, both facing a table with an oddly designed chess set, sat against the northern wall. And, in the center lay a leather couch. I staggered back in shock at both the familiarity of the room, and the sudden appearance of the furnishings. I slammed backward into the table, or rather, through it. An audible gasp escaped my lips as I saw half the table protruding from my stomach. It only then dawned on me that I wasn't tangible in this vision of sorts. By the time I heard the approaching voices it was already too late. "Look at them, twins." The first voice cooed. The voice had an air to it that could soothe the soul.

"I still say we dump the first one. I won't tolerate a Squib." The second voice was harshly gruff. There was something about him that I didn't like, I just couldn't place it.

"Kenneth, the boy is not a Squib." A mirthless laugh found its way out past my lips. So the man shared his name with my father. They would certainly get along. Even if I had no idea what a squib was.

"He might as well be. The healer told us all we needed to know, Alona." This sounded too close for comfort. Was I seeing my parents here?

The figures that the voices belonged to finally entered the room. I instinctively hid behind the leather couch, hoping they wouldn't see me, before I finally remembered that this was just a vision of some kind. While I was only three when I had last seen my parents, a faint image had etched itself inside my mind. The man had shortly cut hair, with a goatee. His blue eyes seemed to pierce the air as if he was always glaring. He wore dark red robes which offset the woman's blue robes. Her hair was long, draped behind her head stopping around the middle of her back. Her grey eyes, though intimidating at first, wormed its way into your soul and seemed to be saying that everything would be alright. Despite the minor differences in my memory, these people were my parents.

"While Damien may not be as magically talented as Lucedio-" Magic? The mere word puzzled me more than the vision. There was no such thing as magic as far as I know.

"Lucedio is gifted. Damien is a near squib." Kenneth interrupted.

"He can still go to Hogwarts. While it may be more difficult-" What the hell is Hogwarts? It sounds like a rare disease.

"I'm not paying for that boy to go to Hogwarts for an education he doesn't need! He's contaminating our family with his filth!"

The smack that followed resounded through the air as I couldn't help, but gape in shock. My mother had stood up for me?

"He is your son!"

"Not for much longer." Kenneth sneered darkly.

Before the rest of the scene could play out, the room collapsed around me. It began to feel as if I was being squeezed through a small tube to who knows where, before I lost myself to the darkness again.


	2. A Strange New World

**Chapter One:**

A Strange New World

It was a dark and muggy morning. The sun had just barely reached the top of the highest building on Quifac St., and yet the humid air clung to the skin of a small boy of ten, nearly eleven, who was sweating profusely as he slept. His eyes were strained shut, and he was turning over constantly as a dream of darkness and despair plagued him. The alley that he lay, was heaped with trash bags of various sizes, which permeated the air with a foul, putrid, rotting stench. However, to the boy, Damien, this was a daily part of his life, as he had been homeless since he was three, though when he was younger some of the homeless adults helped raise him. Although by default, he wasn't without shelter. If you could call an old, moldy cardboard box shelter. Unfortunately this was common in the city that Damien lived. He could have stayed in the Homeless shelter not more than two blocks down the street. However, he preferred not to be robbed of his miniscule amount of possessions.

Damien lurched forward, his nightmare having come to an end. He sat upright, heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The single, thin, tattered, brown blanket slid down his chest before settling on his lap. He grabbed the blanket and the stiff, grimy pillow before stuffing them behind a dumpster, where no one could take them. He turned back to continue his usual morning routine, which usually consisted of stealing from the convenience store around the corner. Instead of rounding that corner, Damien halted in his tracks as he stared at the small, beige envelope that sat where his pillow had been. He snatched up the envelope and stared at the emerald green ink.

Mr. D. Thorne

The Streets

Damien passed over the rest of the address, and instead turned over to see a coat of arms image of sorts. At the top designed to look like it was in a scroll was the name Hogwarts. In the center the letter H was surrounded by a lion, snake, eagle, and badger. Beneath that, in the same scroll method, were the words 'DRACO DORMIENS NUNQUAM TITILANDUS'. He broke open the seal as he removed the letter within.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Thorne

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July

Yours sincerely,

**Minerva McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress**

Damien slipped two more pieces of paper from the envelope. One was the aforementioned list of equipment, and another was a little note that he quickly read.

In light of your circumstance, I will arrive at your place of living when the hour reaches ten to take you to Diagon Alley.

Yours sincerely

Albus Dumbledore

Damien looked up at the sky, unsure of what time it actually was. It seemed like nothing more than a prank to Damien. After all, the only kind of magic Damien knew of was the type performed on stage with sleight of hand and mind tricks. But, still Damien decided to wait and see if this Dumbledore person actually showed up. After a little over an hour had passed a tall, elder man rounded the corner, analyzing Damien over little half-moon spectacles. The man had an enormous beard, which seemed to Damien, like it could be used as a makeshift scarf with how long it was. Stranger than everything else, was the fact that the man wore bright purple robes with little glowing yellow stars shooting across the entire robe.

"Hello. You must be young Damien Thorne. I am Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts," the man smiled his eyes twinkling at Damien.

Damien stared at the man before asking "Can you prove that magic is real?" he asked in disbelief.

"I'll humor you this once" The headmaster flicked his wand and one of the dumpsters rose up into the air, as the blanket and pillow spilled out from behind it.

Damien glared at Albus, who chuckled "Let's put that back, shall we" The dumpster settled back in its original place as the pillow and blanket folded itself back into place. Albus marched over to Damien grabbing his arm before he uttered one small warning, "Hold on tightly, Damien."

Damien, still dazed at the fact that magic was real, did as he was told absent mindedly, when the feeling of being squeezed through a straw enveloped him. Suddenly both Damien and Dumbledore appeared in front of a gigantic white marble building with the word Gringotts engraved upon the dark chestnut polished wooden doors. Damien took a few seconds hunched over from his first time apparating while Dumbledore placed his hands on his back pushing Damien back upright, "Come along, we have much to do, you're alright my boy. Everyone who apparates for the first time has similar reactions." Said Dumbledore, his eyes still merrily twinkling.

Both Damien and Dumbledore made their way up the white marble steps to the grand open wooden doors, and entered Gringotts. Damien tried to see everything especially the weird creatures working at the counters, but Dumbledore just hurried him along, up to the free counter at the front of the isle. Damien had to strain his neck just to see the creature sitting behind it, when Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly gaining the attention of said creature. "I would like to speak to the goblin in charge of young Mr. Thorne's vaults."

The goblin in question peered down at Damien, it's beady little eyes taking in his appearance and grinning widely showing off it's very sharp pointy teeth before grumbling out, "One moment please." The goblin hopped down from his high chair and walked off into one of the hidden hallways that led deeper into Gringotts. In took about five minutes of waiting before that same goblin came back. Instead of seating itself back in its chair, it spoke, "Follow me."

Dumbledore taking that as a request instead of an order didn't bother to thank the goblin and placed his hand back on Damien and guided him towards the goblin, making Damien follow both of them further into Gringotts. It was like a maze even though it was a beauty to behold. All the ceilings were high and were fully decorated with grand crystal chandeliers carefully spaced to illuminate the hallways evenly. Alongside that were also gold scones holding torches brightly lit, mahogany doors lined the halls just as grand and polished as the main door. The three spent about two minutes walking before the goblin came to halt in front of one of those grand doors, knocking loudly before opening it up to announce their presence to whomever resided inside.

The office they had entered was just as decorated as the rest of the building and sitting atop a tall chair behind an opulent desk was another goblin, this one very well dressed in high quality robes.

"Please take a seat." Said the goblin. "You may call me Ragnarok. I am the head goblin of Gringotts. Unfortunately, the goblin in charge of the Thorne vaults is unavailable. Now what is your issue?"

"Young Mr. Thorne here, needs access to his vault. However, due to his parents' deaths and his homeless state, I feel that Mr. Thorne requires a magical guardian to help him manage his affairs." Dumbledore spoke with a grandfatherly tone.

Ragnarok took a quick second to eye Dumbledore before he averted his gaze towards Damien. "Before we can clear up those matters, first a Magical Blood Test to assure young Mr. Thorne is indeed who you claim him to be. One moment please while I gather the necessary tools." He hoisted himself off his chair and exited his office through a semi-hidden side door used just for situations such as these.

"My boy, might I inquire as to how you came to be homeless?" Dumbledore questioned.

"You could, but I don't know that answer." Replied Damien, slightly shrugging.

"I see. Well, do you know if someone took care of you before your homeless state?" asked Dumbledore.

"My Mother." Damien replied as if the answer was obvious.

"So who took care of you afterwards, and where was your father?" Dumbledore quarried.

"My father didn't want to raise a near-squib, whatever that means, so he instead only participated in my brother's life. As for who raised me while homeless, my neighbors for lack of a better word." Damien said.

Before Dumbledore could ask who Damien's brother was Ragnarok returned from the hidden door, carrying an ornate bronze and onyx box as well as a slightly larger sapphire blue box, both of which he placed on the table that stood in front of Damien and Albus. He pulled up a chair to seat himself in, instead of sitting himself back at his desk. Ragnarok opened the sapphire chest and pulled out a sky blue colored parchment which had runes along the edging, next he opened the onyx and bronze chest and pulled out a silver engraved onyx dagger with emeralds fitted into the hilt from its red silk pillow.

He placed these items in front of Damien speaking with, "Mr. Thorne, please take the dagger and prick one finger with it, allow three drops of blood to fall onto the parchment."

Damien took the dagger and did as told, pricking his thumb and followed instruction. However, before he could see the words now spreading across the paper Ragnarok snatched it up to read.

"Hmm, let's see here, it seems you are indeed a Thorne. You have the potential to become an Animagus. You have an Elf Inheritance once you reach the age of 17 during your magical maturity. The other pureblood families you are related to are as follows: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Peverell, Black, and the Thorne's." Here Ragnarok paused looking slightly surprised at a seventh name on the list that he chose not to read off. Atop a coat of arms sat the name 'Originals' sketched out in warping gold ink.

"Mr. Dumbledore, since you requested to become Mr. Thorne's magical guardian, I'll need both of you to sign this parchment first before I give you the results." said Ragnarok.

"Agreed." Dumbledore quickly grabbed a nearby quill and quickly signed his full name, handing the quill to Damien who shakily signed his name. Magic flashed between both Damien and Albus and the sheet before everything returned to normal. Ragnarok handed Albus the blood test results which read as:

Damien Thorne

Age: 11

Blood Status: Pureblood

Total Number of Vaults: 988

Accessible Vaults: Vault Number 423

Inaccessible Vaults:

Age 12-1 vault number 649

Age 13-2 vaults numbers 712 & 713

Age 14-0 vaults

Age 15-1 vault number 923

Age 16-3 vaults numbers 1115, 1236, & 1489

Age 17-10 vaults unlisted

Age 17- 1 vault unlisted

Ages 18-32/60 vaults per year unlisted

Age 31- 61 vaults unlisted.

Magical Abilities: Animagus Potential, Metamorphmagus.

Magical Creature Inheritance: Elf Blood

Related Magical Families: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Peverell, Blacks, and the Originals.

"Might I inquire as to who the Originals are?" questioned Dumbledore with an eyebrow raised at both the name and the number of vaults Damien would have.

Ragnarok sarcastically spoke with, "I thought one with knowledge such as yourself would know the answer." And finished with, "If the family is indeed still around, they would not take too kindly to me revealing their secrets. I could be removed from my position. I would suggest finding them on your own merit, as Damien will have to do."

"Fine then, I will seek out the answers elsewhere." Grumbled Dumbledore. He then looked at the parchment again and duplicated it, removing quite a few vaults from the copy before handing the copy to Damien to read, rolling up the original copy and placing it in an inner pocket in his robe.

Ragnarok then moved to his desk and opened out one of the drawers, retrieving a key for the one vault Damien could access. "He's your key to vault number 423, I'll have Griphook escort you down to withdraw whatever you need." He handed the key to Damien and walked out of his office to call Griphook. While they waited, Ragnarok also handed Damien a bottomless bag to hold any withdrawals in.

A knock on the door announced Griphook's arrival. "Follow me please."

They made their way to the entrance to the carts that took visitors down to their vaults. Albus hopped in the front next to Griphook's seat and Damien took the back of the cart. "Hold on tight!" warned Albus, proceeding to grip onto the handrail as hard as his old fingers could turning his knuckles white as snow.

"Why?" Damien asked just as the cart shot off like a bullet. "BLLLLOOOOODYYYY HELLLLLLL!" he screamed at the top of his lungs just barely grabbing onto the back handle bar, saving himself from flying off the cart though he was trailing behind it as it swerved to the left, then right. Jerking to and fro on all the turns. Dumbledore had been on a cart before, so he managed to somehow stand up and move to the back where Damien should have been sitting. He used all the strength he had hauling the boy back into the cart before quickly seating himself back down, so he wouldn't be playing hold on as well. To Damien this was even worse than seeing people ride roller coaster during a few fairs he managed to sneak into. Up, down, side to violent side, the cart speed on, tossing both Albus and Damien around like hacky sacks. At one point Damien believed them to be upside down even though they were still seated right side up. Finally, after what seemed to be hours on the hell ride, the cart screeched to a halt jerking both passengers forward into the front seats.

Dumbledore was the first to heave himself out, Damien shakily followed, falling to his knees heaving this last night's meager supper. Griphook just sneered in disgust before asking for the key and lamp. Dumbledore handed both before helping Damien back onto his feet. "What's with witches and wizards and their hellish forms of transportation!" croaked out Damien.

"Might I remind you, you are one as well." Replied Albus.

"Not that I lived as one." Damien retorted back.

"Please follow me, and quit your bickering." Snapped out Griphook, already tired of the two humans he was forced to escort.

Damien hurried into the now opened vault, his eyes bugging out at the amount of coins within he now possessed.

"This is currency?" he asked.

Albus explained quickly what each coin was and how many pounds each represented.

"This is the wrong vault, right?" Damien skeptically asked.

"No this is the right vault, do you take us goblins of Gringotts as idiots?!" sneered out Griphook.

Damien shut up and took a few handfuls of galleons, shoving them into the bag he'd been given.

"We don't have to ride the hell cart again do we?" Damien asked his eyebrows raising up.

"Not unless you can crawl back on the rails, or remember the way back up." Snapped Griphook getting back in the cart.

-Time skip-

Damien and Albus walked into Ollivander's wand shop, "Just your wand left, my boy."

"So wizards really need wands huh." Asked Damien.

"Wands are just used as a focus for our own power." Said a voice from out of no-where.

"Who the bloody hell said that?!" yelled out Damien turning around wildly.

"That would be me." Said an elderly man, stepping from behind a shelf stacked high with rectangular boxes.

"Ah Mr. Ollivander, a pleasure." Spoke Albus cheerily.

"Albus, I didn't know you still took house calls." Ollivander replied.

"Mr. Thorne here is a special case." Quipped Albus.

"Ah, I remember your parents' wands. Kenneth had a 13 ¾ inch red oak, dragon heartstring cored wand, very sturdy and resolute and your mother, Alona was it, had 10 ¼ inch cedar, unicorn hair cored wand, very supple and powerful in charms. Shall we start with a dragon heartstring based wand, like your father?" Said Ollivander.

Damien glared at Ollivander at the mention of his father. "I'd rather stay as far away from my father as I can get, so no dragon heartstring cored wands."

"How peculiar, but alright." Ollivander said while giving Damien an odd gaze.

Damien first tried out a similar wand to his mothers, cedar and unicorn hair, but 13 inches instead. That didn't work. Nor did the cypress and unicorn wand, nor the cedar and phoenix feather, nor a pine and cedar wand. Two hours later and over one hundred wands a very happy Ollivander produced one wand in particular. It was a wand of his own making using imported materials as a test of his craft, it had been sitting in the back room since. This was the last wand he wanted Damien to try. Huzzah it was a perfect fit. "Marvelous, how marvelous!" cried Ollivander in joy.

"What's so marvelous?" asked Damien as he cradled his new wand.

"Why this wand of course. It was not too long ago when I was making immeasurable amounts of wands using one out of three types of cores that I decided to try out new materials. This particular wand was the first of my tests, and seeing your results it will certainly not be the last I make. The core is Ashwinder Ash, and the wood is Pine. Now pine I usually work with. However, Ashwinder Ash is very uncommon in England. The length is 11 ½ inches, very flexible and highly adaptable to those with smaller magical cores." Ollivander commented.

Damien paid for his wand, glaring at Ollivander for the small core comment and stormed out of the shop. Albus apologized for Damien's rude behavior before hurrying out after Damien.

Albus grabbed Damien's forearm and dragged him towards the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's get you settled into a room until Hogwarts starts." Albus proceeded to check Damien into a room paying for it himself. "Don't leave Diagon Alley and be back in your room before 11. I have some paperwork to finish at Hogwarts, I leave you here and see you September 1st." Dumbledore left Damien alone to wander at his pleasure. However, today had been very long and life changing so Damien decided to eat and sleep before he would wander around Diagon Alley.


End file.
